INTO THE WILD GREEN YONDER \ reflection

[FERNGILL]

An every-morning task, Fernpaw trotted along the shoreline for any glimmer of a beautiful trinket. Any momentary refraction would immediately snag his attention, even if it was the slightest gleam of a scale or stone. Over time he'd refined his observance for tracking down these items, and with a tireless training routine it was nice to have this reprieve in the morning. The sunset-striped tom was trying more than ever to catch up to his miles-ahead siblings, to the point where he often passed out as soon as he got back to camp... there was little time other than now to do his collecting.

Still didn't rival what it used to be, but- oh. There, there- in the water, a glimmer! A glint of light, aquamarine. Immediately he turned, casting his gaze to the water- and what was revealed was no stone. What he'd thought had been a piece of sea-glass, or some bright turquoise stone... it was his eyes, looking back at him. Soft-furred features collapsed into complete confusion.

"My eyes are green?" It was as if his mind was tumbling out of his maw- there was no blockade. Not that he was often good at stopping himself from spitting out his feelings, but- this was strange! Last time he'd checked his eyes had been blue- murky blue, and- they'd looked a lot bigger. Had he been so focused on catching fish, staring at their silvery glimmer in the water, that he'd forgotten what he looked like?

"How long have my eyes been green...?" ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[Riffleheart]

Riffleheart, too, had green eyes - but he had found that out a long time ago, unlike Fernpaw, who seemed to have just realized this about himself. A small laugh came from slightly upriver, where the blue tabby was poised over the morning-bright water, his claws unsheathed in a clear fishing posture. "Probably from when you were two moons or so, son." he sheathed his claws and came padding lightly along the water's edge, approaching the ginger-furred youth with a grin on his face. "Kits always have blue eyes, but by the time they're up and about and causing trouble their eyes change." he paused, swishing his blue-tipped tail, before adding thoughtfully, "I dunno why, though. I suppose they've got to grow into it like they've got to grow into everything else."

Riffleheart hadn't thought about what it must be like to discover something so fundamental about oneself as your eye color in a long time: his days of self-discovery felt long past, even if - logically - he knew every day had the potential to teach you something about yourself and the world. "I think the green suits you, by the way. After all, aren't green eyes the loveliest color of all? Here, allow me to demonstrate..." he swept one paw up to frame his eyes in one smooth, exaggerated motion, and dramatically fluttered his lashes, a low purr of amusement escaping his chest.​

 

[iciclefang]

"Yes... and mine are blue," comes a flat, teasing voice behind Fernpaw and Riffleheart. The white-marked tortoiseshell sits behind the two toms at the water's edge, wondering what brought about this astounding revelation.

Her eyes dart to her littermate's reflection on the water's surface and finds herself similarly astonished at the vibrance of his eyes. Had they always been that green? That bright and clear?

She frowns, turning ice chip eyes from the river to her brother's face. When had he become so mature-looking? Once-bulging eyes have set becomingly into a soft-looking ginger face. The color of his formerly frightening gaze has lost its murkiness. His pelt seems soft and full now, the bald spots covered by what is seemingly overnight growth.

"When'd you get so..." She struggles to find the appropriate word and fails. Her brother seems almost a different cat, more like their father than the bug-eyed little scrap that used to bring shells into his nest.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[willowroot]

( ☾ ) there is a hidden affection in willowroot's chest for those riverclanners who seek treasure. day in and day out, she's seen clanmates combing the beaches, snuffling under heavy stones, even diving deep beneath crystalline waves to snatch up possible wealth. it's endearing to her, these little habits so many of her clanmates have. even if their temporary camp is slightly overflowing with trinkets, she watches with amusement and outpouring love as apprentices swap stones, kits find their first treasure. warriors come back from patrol with feathers in their fur, others grasping early spring flowers. her clan are all a bunch of ravens, enticed by shiny things, and it warms her heart.

fernpaw is one such character who has made it his life's mission to find and sort through nature's jewlery. willowroot remembers with fondness her old collection of stones, sorting them with the aid of the little ginger child. several of his treasures she's certain have come from her own collection, and it is with pride that she shares. his is a refined taste, his treasure hunting done quite carefully. today, paw hovered over sun sparkling waves, the femme glances over to find the youth hard at work, as he is every morning.

verdant eyes flick back to the river, where a shadow flits, an unknowing fish, about to be speared by thorn sharp claws. as the lead warrior snatches the creature from the water, she admires the glowing silver scales, half wondering if there's a way to preserve their beauty. as fernpaw calls out, her head will tip back towards him. riffleheart hollers back a response, but willowroot is too busy huffing laughter to herself. the boy seems genuinely surprised that his eyes have developed color at last. it's amusing (perhaps slightly concerning), and endearing. padding over herself, the smoke squints, taking in the color. "aye, they are! the best color, like riff says." she'll twitch her whiskers as the tomcat frames his face.

"you've certainly grown into your skin, fernpaw. ye look like yer dad, almost." indeed, the sunset hued apprentice is beginning to boast a squared jaw, his tabby stripes cutting across his fur in swirling patterns. mudpelt is reflected clearly in the verdant eyes, even if they are not his hue of gold. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 05 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

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Stalkingpaw too only just notices the change in fernpaw. Green eyes squint for a moment, trying to take in what the difference is - to spot the change. But.. she can't quite put her paw on it. "You look a little weird today," she says instead, her brain to mouth filter practically nonexistent. Blinking slowly she's quick to add "But yeah, they're green." She's pretty sure they were always green, but then again she doesn't always have the best memory. Oh well - she shrugs it off quite literally, deciding it's not that important. ​

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[FERNGILL]

Riffleheart's judgement- conclusion made that they must have been green for a while... it crumpled Fernpaw's bewildered face into a frown. Concentrating on his memories, he was sure- sure- that only a couple moons ago they had not been this vivid. "They were blue," he hummed affirmatively, asserting the picture in his mind even though it barely resembled what he now saw in the river.

Not often had he seen Iciclepaw lost for words, usually so direct- but she trailed off as she studied him, and did not follow up her sentence. Humoured, the ginger tom regarded his sister for a few long moments, the glimmer of his smile a star in his eye. "I dunno!" he answered her cheerily- never the most specific, was Fernpaw. He could not trace his mind back to a time when he did or didn't look like this.

The way Riffleheart batted his eyelids, declaring green the best colour, coaxed another small giggle from Fernpaw's throat. Willowroot echoed the sentiment- always a kind face and a kindred spirit in the art of collecting. That mission was forgotten now, though- and he felt a purr rumble in his throat as he was compared to his father. Another glance was spared Iciclepaw's way, before attention befell the water- and by extension, himself- once again. This was odd. "I guess I do look a little like Dad..." he hummed, tilting his head. It was Mudpelt's face- not his colours or his size, for he still stood slight and small, but... the resemblance was there. "Definitely not as big, though. And he doesn't look weird!" A defensive jab sent Stalkingpaw's way, though there was no malice or cynicism in his tone. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​